


Permissive

by towards_morning



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:29:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21551548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towards_morning/pseuds/towards_morning
Summary: "You're allowed to feel good, he told himself, and when Whirl's perfect, sharp claw caught just so on his node, Minimus let himself moan, and then again-"*Whirlmags shameless PWP.
Relationships: Minimus Ambus/Whirl, Ultra Magnus/Whirl
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65





	Permissive

**Author's Note:**

> This is 100% just me wanting to write Whirl gently railing Minimus into the ground, and I refuse to apologise.
> 
> In my head this is late MTMTE/early LL time.

“Relax,” Whirl said right in his audial, and Minimus clenched his hand around Whirl's waist just slightly in response. The berth was narrow and so he was perched on Whirl's lap, one layer of armour removed and still left shivering at the heat coming from his partner. When Whirl dipped his helm to graze Minimus' cheek, it took everything Minimus had to not close his eyes. “You good?” Whirl murmured, and Minimus lost that fight at the soft rumble that went straight through him. His optics blinked closed.

A rough touch to his modesty panel made him online them again, gasping as he let it snap open. Minimus almost wished he had the excuse of overcharge as he met Whirl's single, narrowed optic- but two weak drinks weren't enough for that, pleasant as they were. He couldn't pretend he was here for any reason but that after years of closing himself off, he wanted something more, and that Whirl was someone who was able to pull him far beyond good sense and propriety.

That touch on his valve kept on going, and Minimus was surprised to hear himself whine. Honestly whine, optics fluttering. When he forced them open, he met Whirl's single optic, steady and sure.

“What you want?” Whirl asked, leaning in the slightest fraction, that eye enveloping all of Minimus' vision. “Tell me.” Far from his usual dismissive tone, Minimus found himself the sole focus of all that chaotic energy, and he nearly buckled under that incredible attention. For once it was all his. He just had to accept it.

Minimus thought to himself- _no, this is too much-_ and then he pushed the thought aside. That was someone else's idea, and not true, and he remembered what he'd learned. That wanting was not the same thing as being decadent. That wanting was allowed. And when he saw Whirl's optic narrow with lust, he thought- _yes, that, I want that._

Minimus cleared his vocalizer, and said, “I want you to- to spike me.”

It would have been hard to insist on self-flagellation in the face of the way Whirl lit up. Minimus was used to holding back. He fought the instinctive urge to do so and instead he spread his thighs those few inches further. Easier than asking aloud.

Minimus watched as Whirl locked that bright optic on it. He had been long enough feeling it wasn't safe to show that the simple act of looking had Minimus shivering. When he watched Whirl gently bring a single, dangerous claw to touch it, Minimus shocked himself with his reaction, venting aloud, unprepared for the charge that slammed through him.

“Well,” said Whirl, distant as he stroked up and down, up, down- “Well, aren't you just a beauty.”

“Please,” Minimus managed, forcing his embarrassment to one side in favour of spreading just that bit wider. Up, down. Up, down, dangerous with those sharp points but controlled. Primus but it felt good, in a way Minimus hadn't let himself acknowledge in- it didn't bear thinking about. He wasn't here to think about that.

_You're allowed to feel good,_ he told himself, and when Whirl's perfect, sharp claw caught just so on his node, Minimus let himself moan, and then again-

“Hm,” he heard Whirl say. “You like that, little bot?”

When Minimus was unable to say  _yes_ , he felt Whirl stop.

“Please,” he managed, crackling through desperation. “Please, Whirl-”

He felt Whirl press the head of his spike against his valve, gentle as it breached, inexorable as it kept going. “Please,” Minimus said again, desperate as he felt it push- it had been too long, and when he felt Whirl get past that initial resistance, thick spike moving in his valve, Minimus gasped.

“Whirl,” he managed, drunk on the feeling of his body responding directly after so many centuries curled inside a shell. When Whirl sank those extra inches in and gasped so close to his audials, Minimus found himself unable to prevent a low moan in response, thick hard warmth going deeper, deeper, second by second.

When Whirl finally settled himself fully in him, Minimus keened, too warm and wanting to appreciate any sense of embarrassment.

“Mmm,” he felt more than heard Whirl rumble, chest pressed tightly against Minimus' own, sharp and dangerous. “What do you want, little one?”

Minimus met Whirl's gaze, and for a moment he floundered in the face of it. He didn't want to say, he wanted Whirl to  _take_ . That was easier. Simpler. Deniable.

That last thought made Minimus screw up his courage and refuse to take the easy way out. He wouldn't be someone willing to deny the facts.

“Hard,” Minimus managed, and when Whirl only narrowed his optic, stationary inside him, he tried again. “Spike me hard. Please, Whirl-”

A sharp thrust cut him off. “Look at you,” he heard Whirl say, as if from a distance. Minimus felt more than heard himself moaning as another thrust drove home. “You just need someone to do all the work, huh? You like that?”

Minimus grabbed blindly for Whirl's shoulders, and pushed himself down, down on them the next thrust. It rattled him even as he felt his valve clench. Whirl suddenly put claws on either side of his waist and pushed down, leaving Minimus to strain fruitlessly, trying to thrust again. Held still.

“I asked you a question,” he heard Whirl say.

“Yes,” Minimus said after a moment, blinking his eyes open when Whirl didn't relent with that rough, hard push down. Seated on Whirl's unrelenting spike he tried again, heat pulsing through him. “I like it,” he tried, voice trailing off into a gasp at the end, another hard, hard thurst cutting off his thoughts.

Whirl kept a brutal, punishing pace. Minimus surrendered himself to it gladly. He felt himself pushing back as though from a distance, hips pistoning as he felt himself give in, half guilty even as he keened. He felt his own hand move down, down towards where Whirl had opened him, desperately spreading fingers around where his spike was splitting him, and when he felt Whirl falter and moan at the touch Minimus thought,  _I did that_ . Triumphant even as he forced himself to let go. Always difficult but, in this case, rewarding.

“Frag,” Whirl panted, pace stuttering, “Frag, Mags-”

He felt a sudden warmth inside him as Whirl overloaded. Heat and Whirl clutching at him, claws so careful not to hurt even as he felt every ounce of tension under him. Minimus frantically pushed a hand between them as he rode it out, finding his node, so close now, closer still as he saw Whirl shudder. Again thinking-  _I did that._

It was only a few kliks before his own overload followed, a thick, syrupy feeling that lasted long enough to feel like an indulgence, leaving Minimus shivery and oversensitive on Whirl's lap, spike still twitching in him.

When he felt the guilt threaten to rise up, Minimus grit his teeth and repeated:  _you're allowed_ . Not moving from the warm lap felt like a victory.

“Frag me,” Whirl said after a minute, not one to let a companionable silence stay comfortable. “Didn't know you had it in ya.”

Minimus slid off his spike, not wanting to admit that he was reluctant to do so even as his struts turned to liquid at the feeling, and didn't respond.

“Seriously, frag _me_ ,” he heard Whirl ramble on and, knowing he was in for a desperate bid to remove any content silence, Minimus took the opportunity to arrange himself on the berth, content when he found himself willing to do something other than run for the door. Progress, he thought, as Whirl settled in beside him, still talking.

“If I'd known you knew how to-” Minimus gave himself permission to let Whirl's babbling wash over him and let his arm graze Whirl's waist, humming just a little. Whirl didn't stop talking, but he fumbled for a moment before turning his head into Minimus' neck, still going. Minimus thought about the kind of pain one felt when allowing oneself comfort they could not convince themselves they deserved, and told himself, _we are allowed to feel good_ \- as he slipped into recharge, nestled against the still-droning Whirl. He hoped he wasn't the only one thinking it.


End file.
